


Overcast

by Iki_teru



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Community: kh_drabble, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iki_teru/pseuds/Iki_teru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud, on his quest to defeat Sephiroth once and for all and a quiet moment between battles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overcast

**Author's Note:**

> This was written way, way, way back in 2009 for the kh_drabble challenge [197] Second Chance. I'm still kind of fond of it, so enjoy <3

He once believed the only way he could destroy Sephiroth was to shed the light completely. Only by becoming darkness could he defeat darkness itself. Or something along those lines. 

That had been a mistake, proven to him by a pair of young blue eyes. 

"You'll find your light, I'm sure of it."   
\----

Cloud leaned heavily on his sword; breath coming in short, ragged gasps and white lights popping behind his eyes at regular intervals. Bastard broke ribs this time, he thought darkly. He was out of potions, ethers, out of lifelines at this point and on some world he hadn't bothered to catch the name of; only knew there wasn't another living soul for miles and miles. 

He stared at the ground, hard, as if the dry earth would hold the answers he sought. A black and white sneaker slid into view, followed closely by a gloved hand tipping a hi-potion against his lip; the other hand hovering nearby incase he fell over before the potion worked. 

Hazel eyes watched him patiently until the magic took hold and he could feel everything moving properly again.

"Tifa." It wasn't a question, just facts. It slid from his throat in the same dry monotone everything else did these days. He didn't smile at her, wasn't even sure his facial muscles could form the necessary pattern. 

She tilted her head, studying him. "You were close that time," she says in the same voice normal people say things like 'nice weather we're having'. Then again, given their history Cloud had to seriously draw her sanity into question after everything she had done (and put up with) for him. She's leaning forward suddenly, placing band-aids and ointments against scratches the potion didn't quite take care of; the ones not serious enough to waste another bottle on. Cloud doesn't pull away from her, as he might have once; he doesn't flinch and insist he's fine, just takes it with the same stoicism he lives his life by. 

Tifa doesn't mind the silence, fills him in on things back home. "Aerith sent a big bowl of potato soup, it's in the pack. Leon gave me a box to give you, says it's for weapon repairs. Yuffie sent you a book. I'm not going to ask because quite frankly I don't want to know given the cover art. And Merlin asks that you please let him know how these new potions are working." 

She's done patching him, apparently, and the next thing Cloud knows Tifa's sliding a warm bowl of soup into his hands. "Eat up," she instructs with a smile lighting up her face. She sits down next to him (so close he can feel the warmth of her body), legs outstretched.

"Next time." Tifa says, eyes trained on the heavens as stars slowly wink into existence, "we'll get him next time." 

Cloud doesn't smile, not physically, but he can feel something in his chest loosen, begin to float and if Tifa would turn her head she'd see his eyes are a brighter shade of blue. He too turns to watch the sky with all those stars, all those worlds, all those possibilities. 

"I'm sure of it."


End file.
